by Dawn Altieri
He lifted his drink. “It bodes well for me that you’ve got such confidence in my stamina.”
She landed a playful punch to his shoulder, pretending to be offended when she was anything but. The way his gaze remained fixated on her as she took a sip of her beer, the way he raked it down her body, was totally unprofessional. She was the victim of a crime, a crime he was investigating. She should be offended. Angry. Furious, even.
But she wasn’t.
She enjoyed being the focus of his attention, whether he was babysitting her or not. The sight of him towering over her left her breathless all over again, with those strong, broad shoulders and lean muscles, that mischievous grin that warned of nothing but trouble, but in the best way she could imagine.
Maybe Lauren was right. Emma had been alone for too long. Somehow, the sexy detective had managed to stir a fire in her she’d long forgotten. And now she had the added thought in her head of testing his stamina.
The drummer kicked into the opening beat of a Black Crowes tune. “Ooh, I love this song.” She slid off the stool, grabbed Jake’s hand, and pulled him back to the dance floor. He twirled her under his arm again and finished the spin by yanking her into him once more.
It felt so good to let go. To forget all the stress of the last few days and lose herself in this man. He kept one hand on her waist while the other held her fingers against his chest, and they moved together in perfect sync, him stepping forward as she stepped back and toward him again.
Without warning, he gripped her waist to stop her movements and stared down at her with such intensity her cheeks blazed. She gazed up at him expectantly, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs. Her palms flattened against his chest, which rose and fell just as hard and heavy as hers.
Cold realization dawned on her. “We shouldn’t be doing this, should we?” she murmured.
“No. We really shouldn’t.”
His mouth crashed onto hers with an urgency she hadn’t anticipated, as if he’d been dying to kiss her all along. With one hand at the nape of her neck and the other still wrapped around her back, he pulled her closer, completely enveloping her.
Her body sparked to life, reawakening in a way she hadn’t thought possible. The bite of whiskey lingered on his tongue as it tangled with hers. His toned biceps clenched beneath her fingers as she gripped his arms to steady herself. Those two beers she’d downed had to be somewhat to blame for her lightheadedness, but this was a different sort of intoxication. An energy moved through her like nothing she’d ever experienced, certainly not with Justin.
Her stomach fluttered with guilt for allowing the thought of Justin to creep in, but there was no comparison. Jake’s kiss transformed her entire body into one giant nerve-ending, pleading for more—or for as much as was possible on a crowded dance floor. She slipped her hands around his waist to the lean muscles of his back, caught off guard when her fingers bumped the handgun tucked into his jeans beneath his T-shirt.
And there it was. The reminder of how dangerous and powerful this man might really be.
He withdrew from her suddenly, stepping back and moving his hand from her neck to her cheek. The look on his face was one she couldn’t read at first, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
He uttered a curse. “I can’t do this.”
Her heart plummeted.
He shot a gaze through the crowd before he led her back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” he asked.
Just what I need, she thought, though she’d instantly sobered at the abrupt halt to their kiss. “I’ll take a club soda with lemon.”
Jake ordered one for himself, as well. He ran his palm over his mouth and chin, reclaiming his firmly held composure while the bartender set off to get the drinks. “Emma, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
He was still holding the breath that filled his chest. It took every ounce of self-restraint she had not to grab him by his T-shirt and kiss him again, just to force him to release it.
She beckoned him closer with her finger, exhaling warmth on his neck as she whispered in his ear. “I kinda liked it, Detective.”
His lips curled into that crooked, wicked grin for the slightest moment before the playfulness shut down and he was all business again. “I mean it, Emma. You’re a witness.”
She swore the quivering chill that ran up her spine was in response to his comment, until the vibration of her phone in her back pocket registered in her mind. She held up a finger and dug the phone from her jeans, not bothering to read the screen before she raised it to her ear.
“Hello?” The crowd and the loud music made it hard to hear, and she placed her finger over her other ear to block some of the noise. “Hello?”
The activity around her slowed to a crawl as sounds of labored breathing came through the line.
“Black lace is my favorite,” the deep voice grunted in a whisper. Emma glanced down at her black lace top and her stomach wrenched.
Jake gripped her shoulder. “Emma?”
“Seems like the detective likes it, too,” the man on the phone said. “Is that the only black lace you’re wearing tonight? Gonna let him see the rest of it?”
Her vision blurred in a fit of panic. All around her, the other patrons continued to dance and sing along to the music…but somewhere, this madman was watching her.
“Emma.” Jake squeezed her again and gave her a slight shake, but he only drew a sliver of her attention. His voice drifted farther away as she concentrated on the man on the phone.
“This girl here isn’t wearing black lace like you are. I really wish she was. But I’m still going to pretend she’s you.”
Jake tore the phone from her fingers and spoke into it in a controlled, even tone. “Listen, you sick son of a bitch.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced down at the screen that had gone black when the caller disconnected. “Goddamnit!” He shifted his position, shielding Emma as best he could as he surveyed the area around the bar.
“He knows what I’m wearing,” she murmured. “He can see us. And he said he has another girl.”
Raw fury riddled Jake’s face as he threw an arm across her shoulders and tugged her off the barstool with his free hand. “I have to get you out of here.”
Chapter Twelve
“Did you get anything?” Jake asked through the police radio in the SUV.
“Unregistered number,” Mack said. “We’re showing it pinging off a tower near Bleeker and Thompson, but you know the drill. He didn’t stick around long.”
Just long enough to catch a glimpse of Emma in her skin-tight jeans and her lacey black top. Long enough to catch Jake in one of the dumbest mistakes of his career—making a move on a potential witness, in the middle of a crowded bar, no less.
What the hell had he been thinking?
“At least we’ve got a place to start.” Mack said.
“Yeah,” Jake grumbled. “Okay. Keep me posted.”
He disconnected the call and peered toward the passenger seat where Emma stared blankly out the side window. She’d already sent a simple text to her friends telling them Jake was taking her home and offered them no explanations. Him, either. He still didn’t know exactly what the bastard had said to her. The details could wait until she’d recovered from the shock. All he wanted to do was reach over the console and take her hand, reassure her he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But she probably wouldn’t believe him.
All his wits had deserted him, and he’d practically pounced on her on the dance floor, resulting in the least thought-out yet most mind-blowing kiss he’d ever had. He could kick himself for losing control of his willpower. But the way she’d moved, the way she’d touched him, like she wanted him as much as he wanted her…it had been more temptation than he could handle. He could try to blame the alcohol, but he hadn’t had that muc
h to drink. Besides, he knew himself better than that. He could’ve been stone-cold sober, and he probably would’ve done the same damned thing.
He led her up to her apartment, checked all the rooms one by one. When he returned to the living room, he found her facing the floor-to-ceiling windows with her arms wrapped around herself.
“It’s someone who knows me well enough to have my cell number,” she said softly, her gaze still fixed on the city skyline.
He thought back to his visit to her office earlier today. He’d run through the MacMillan employee list several times, comparing it with the list of Abigail Murray’s acquaintances. Not a single name in common. There were only a handful of six-foot-tall males on either list, and all of them had alibis for the night the attacks had occurred.
He had more phone calls to make in the morning, more questions to ask. Her supervisor, Stuart Hartford, fit the physical description, and he’d made some strange comments about wanting to be sure Emma was safe and protected. Jake would definitely verify he’d been home with his family tonight, as he’d supposedly been when Abigail was murdered, but he had a feeling he’d be crossing Hartford off the list soon. Over the years, he’d learned to trust his gut. No matter how strange the guy seemed, Hartford didn’t set off the alarms in Jake’s head.
The problem was, right now, no one did.
He came up behind Emma and gripped her shoulders lightly. She flinched at his touch, and he slid his hands up and down her arms to soothe her. He couldn’t bear to leave her like this.
“Let me stay,” he said in a gentle tone. “I’ve got an overnight bag for nights I get stuck at the precinct, and I have no problem with the couch.”
She turned to face him, and he let his hands drift down her arms. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
He swallowed hard. He wasn’t so sure, himself. “I’m sorry, Emma. I made a terrible mistake tonight.”
Her eyes darkened with disappointment. “It’s my fault. I had no business dancing like—”
“No.” He gripped her elbows until her eyes met his. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who crossed the line. I need to keep you safe, and I didn’t do that tonight.”
“Yes, you did. You got me out of there and back to my apartment.”
The lack of blame in her voice, in her words, folded over him like a warm blanket. She was safe, and he’d do everything in his power to keep her that way.
“Still… I shouldn’t have kissed you. I could lose my job over behavior like that.”
A forced smile drew her lips into a thin line. “It’s okay. We just won’t let it happen again.”
No matter how much he knew he should, there was no way he could make that promise.
He brushed her hair over her shoulder and pulled her close, letting go of a frustrated breath. She relaxed against him, resting her head on his chest and sliding her hands to his waist, but she stiffened when she nudged his handgun, as she’d done on the dance floor earlier.
That had been what reminded him he was a damned cop.
She broke free of their embrace. “Do you always carry a gun?”
Her reaction almost made him wish he hadn’t worn it tonight, but he obviously needed it, considering the danger she was in. “I usually do, but not always. Does it bother you?”
“No,” she insisted, though she looked uncertain. “I mean, you’re a cop. I know you have guns. I’ve just never been around someone who carries one before.”
He understood, but he wouldn’t forego his weapon around her. Not until this bastard was behind bars. He’d let down his guard in the past, and it had ended in the worst possible way.
He glanced around the apartment, toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. She’d be all alone if he left. “Let me stay.” It wasn’t a request this time. “He followed you tonight, and he told you he had another girl. God knows what the hell he’s doing right now, or what he’ll do later.”
Jake wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already figured out, but she clearly didn’t want to accept the brutal reality of what could be happening at this very moment.
“There are officers searching all over the neighborhood where that call came from, but there’s no one here with you. I really don’t want to leave you alone.”
She peered up at him through the dark waves that framed her face and folded her arms across her chest, as though trying to protect herself from all of it. “You said yourself, the security is good here.”
He examined the alarm system’s control panel. It was one of the more reliable setups, one Jake would have chosen himself. Her fiancé had taken her safety seriously.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay,” she said.
He faced her again, cursing himself for kissing her and destroying what little trust she had in him. It was unlikely anyone could get past the security system and into the apartment. For now, it would have to be enough. Obviously, she wouldn’t change her mind about him staying.
He gave her a grim nod and stepped toward the door but stopped before he opened it. “What are you doing tomorrow? I was planning to head out to my house on Long Island to open it up for the season. Come with me. I could use the company.”
And it would mean he could keep an eye on her.
Her face warmed with a look of wary excitement. “I could do that. Keep you company.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at nine a.m.” He opened the door to the hallway. “And pack your swimsuit.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ready to escape the city for the day, Emma zipped her canvas tote and checked her reflection in the bedroom mirror one last time. The dark circles under her eyes proved she’d barely slept, sick with worry over the woman that psycho claimed he’d taken.
All night, she’d fought the urge to ask Jake to come back, to make her feel safe in her own home. Her thoughts drifted back to the kiss they’d shared, the electricity in his touch, and the security she’d felt in his arms—security she’d longed for but never expected to find with him.
But Jake’s dangerous career put him in situations where his life could end in a split second, a scenario she was not willing to face in a relationship again.
It didn’t matter, anyway, because he’d made it clear even kissing her had been a mistake that could cost him his career.
The buzzer sounded, and moments later, he was at her door. Her breath caught at the sight of him in a snug, dark gray T-shirt, olive green cargo shorts, and low hiking boots. His hair was just as unruly as it had been the night before, and he sported a dark shadow of stubble she’d never thought was as sexy as she found it on him.
“Good morning,” he said as he stepped into the sun-drenched living room. His gaze skimmed the length of her, bringing back the heat she’d been fighting, heat she should not have been feeling under the current circumstances. “You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks burned with a blush as she glanced down at her outfit, a floral sundress with a light denim jacket. She’d twisted her hair into a loose braid to keep it off her face. Nothing fancy, but pretty enough. She flashed a shy smile. His appreciative perusal was just the boost her confidence and frazzled nerves needed. “Thank you.”
“All set?” he asked.
She nodded and followed him to the elevator.
He seemed much more at ease than he’d been when he left last night. Maybe he’d gotten good news from Mack? Probably wishful thinking. The not-so-covert assessment he made glancing up and down the sidewalk before allowing her to exit the building would’ve been hard to miss, and it brought the knot back into the pit of her stomach.
He led her down the street to the Tahoe and helped her into the passenger seat, where she noticed for the first time the modified dashboard with all sorts of law enforcement gadgets and equipment. She’d been too preoccupied to notice it when she was in the SUV befo
re, especially last night after that phone call. He climbed into the driver’s side, started the engine, and pulled away from the curb.
She tipped her head, wanting to keep the mood light. “No lights and sirens, Detective?”
He turned to her with his eyes alive with intrigue. “You’re trouble. I just know it.”
She chuckled to herself, proud of her successful attempt at flirtation. “I think you might be, too.”
“You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “We could stop for breakfast.”
“We can, if you’re hungry. I don’t think I could eat.” Her appetite always went out the window when she was stressed, and she’d never been so stressed in her life.
He took her hand in his across the console and gave it a squeeze.
A comfortable silence hung between them as they left Manhattan, and she settled deeper into the leather seat. With the steady hum of the tires rolling beneath them, she gave in to her exhaustion and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the handsome detective at her side who would somehow make it all go away…at least for today.
…
“Hey. Sleepyhead. We’re here.” Emma opened her eyes to find Jake leaning toward her from the driver’s seat, gently shaking her shoulder. “You can lie down for a while once we get inside.”
“No need. I’ll be all right. Thanks.” She sat up straighter and shook off the grogginess. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you were able to relax.”
And she had relaxed, more than she had in days. Maybe she should reconsider his suggestion to lie down for a while. If she could be that comfortable—that secure—in his SUV, she could only imagine how she’d feel in his bed.
She climbed out of the Tahoe and stared at the boarded-up structure in front of them. “This is it?” she asked.
The small, rundown white Cape Cod sat on a plot of land that seemed light years away from the city, with little more than dead grass and weeds keeping the soil in place. It was the only dwelling on this side of the road, disrupting the view for several larger homes that had obviously been built to face the bay.